


No One's Gonna Come Looking

by Catchclaw



Series: Mental Mimosa [118]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Tower, Closet Sex, Dirty Talk, Fear of Discovery, First Time, Getting Off on Fear of Discovery, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 14:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15753567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/pseuds/Catchclaw
Summary: The hardest thing is not making any noise.





	No One's Gonna Come Looking

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: If you’re going to insult me, at least try harder. Prompt from this [generator](http://colormayfade.tumblr.com/generator).

The hardest thing is not making any noise.

Sure, the small space is a challenge. It’s dark and cramped in the tactical closet and Tony knows if he stretched out a hand this way or that, he’d hit something pointy or clingy or both.

Thank goodness, then, that his hands have something better to do, that he has no plans in the foreseeable future to extract them from their current positions at twelve and six on Steve’s body: one snagged in Steve’s hair and the other wrapped around his gorgeous and very insistent dick.

Well, Tony’s guessing on the gorgeous part. He’s never actually seen the thing; hell, this is the first time he’s touched it, the first time he’s kissed the man who it belongs to and begged said man to let Tony unzip his khakis. Steve’s said yes to that, yes to touching Tony back, yes to having his balls tugged and his nipples pinched under the sensible cashmere sweater Nat got him for Christmas, and he’s so hard right now, hinging on the edge of desperate, that it feels like reasonable to assume that Cap’s cock is as pretty as the rest of him and fuck, if only Steve would let Tony turn on the light.

“No,” Steve said the first time he’d asked, the third. “We’ll get caught. Somebody might see.”

Never mind that most of the team’s not even in the building, that those who are are up in their personal suite, that there’s like a one in ten chance of anybody being on the mission floor, much less anywhere near the combat dressing room with its slim, not-really-designed-for-people-to-fool-around-in closet. Nobody knows where they are. Nobody’s gonna come looking. Everybody’s just glad to be home.

So Tony could totally throw the light on, could totally get an eyeful of Steve Rogers _in flagrante_ de handjob, and no one would be the wiser. Nobody in the lower 48 would fucking _care._

But one of the good things about having slept with so many people back in the day, when he was young and dumb and didn’t realize that people as hot as Captain America would one day end up in his arms, is that Tony’s a genius at tells, at reading a hitch of breath or a full-body shudder or the turn of fingernails into his neck. Ten minutes of serious making out, another five of sloppy stroking, and he’s got Steve’s beats down to a science and a semi-straightforward plan to blow the guy’s mind.

“Please,” he says again, dipping the word in Steve’s ear. “I wanna see you, Cap. You feel so good”--he squeezes, doesn’t bother biting back his own groan--“ _so_ good. I bet you’re fucking gorgeous. Why won’t you let me see?”

Steve’s hips kick and pin Tony fast to the wall, to the coils of grafting rope that hang there. “No,” he says again, high, almost a whine, one he battles down to a whisper. “You can’t. Tony, somebody could come by and--”

“And what? See the the light on under the door?”

“Yes.”

“And they’d come over here, wouldn’t they?”

Steve’s cock twitches, hard, his precum catching Tony’s fingers. “Yeah.”

“Oh, and what then, huh?” Tony grins. “You think they might open the door?”

Steve makes a sound like a record scratch, like for a second he forgot how to breathe, and his hands--those big, beautiful mitts--knead at Tony’s ass, his grip going desperate. “No, no--”

“Mmmm. But you want them to. I know you do. I can feel it.” Tony speeds up his wrist and wishes to god and every goddamn angel that his cock was free, that Steve was jerking him off, too, because he would really fucking prefer to cream Cap’s fingers than to come in his stupidly tight jeans like a kid. “You like the idea of somebody walking in.”

Steve’s face is hot against Tony’s neck, his voice gravel indignant. “I do not.”

“You like the idea of getting caught. Of being bad. Of somebody seeing how easy a mark you are, how little it’s gonna take me to get you off.”

“I do _not_ ,” Steve gasps, fucking Tony’s fist to beat the band, his body betraying every single damn word. “You’re just--don’t put your weird sex stuff on me, Stark.”

Tony turns his head and finds Steve’s mouth. The kiss is sweet and feverish, messy; Steve’s too far gone to remember how to close his lips or swing his tongue so Tony tries to do all the work, tries, but it’s damn hard to concentrate when Steve is this close, this horny, this beautifully human.

“It’s not weird,” Tony gets out when he can. “It’s not weird at all. It’s ok to ask for what you want, baby. To know it and give it a name.”

“I want you,” Steve says through clenched teeth. “Tony, goddamn, I want you so bad.”

“You got me. You got me right here, Steve. You feel that? You feel me?”

A whimper, a long, desperate hitch, the curl of Steve’s fingers into the curve of Tony’s ass. “Yes. Yes, yes, fuck--”

“Then do something for me, huh?”

“What?”

“Imagine you hear footsteps. Out there in the changing room. They’re coming this way, huh? They’re getting closer.”

Steve writhes, a live wire on two legs. “Oh.”

“You hear them?” Tony bites at his ear. “Tell me you do.”

Steve gives up a low, eager moan. Ok, that counts as yes.

“Oh, you better be careful making noises like that, Cap. Whoever’s out there can hear you. Just gonna make them get over here faster. You’ve got ‘em worried. Now they have to open the door.”

“ _Tony_.”

Tony thumbs at the head, teases Steve’s leaking slit. “Tsk tsk. What did I just say? You’ve done it now, haven’t you? Now they have to see what’s going on. Now they’ve just gotta open this door.”

Steve shudders, gapes. “Fuck,” he gets out. “Tony, Tony, _please_.”

Tony gives himself a half second exactly to savor his genius, the utter perfection of what’s about to, uh, come. “JARVIS,” he calls about ten times louder than he has to. “Lights!”

Scientifically speaking, he’s not sure which is more blinding: the sudden shot of overheads or the look on Steve’s face in that one, perfect shocked moment when he comes.

Then there’s spunk everywhere, the smell of it, the hot punch, and Steve’s kissing him, sloppy and sideways through an enormous fucking grin even as his dick keeps giving it up, pulse after eager, wet pulse.

“Christ,” Tony mutters, his own smile just as wide, just as undeniably dopey. “Been a while, huh, Cap?”

Steve laughs, breathy, like paper, his long fingers easing over Tony’s erection, the ridiculous stretch of his now Cap-dampened jeans. “Mmmm,” Steve hums, the words a nuzzle against Tony’s neck. “Worth the wait.”

**Author's Note:**

> ...why am I so convinced that Cap would have this kink? No idea, but I am.


End file.
